


Gimme Shelter

by Pandean



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abortion, Additional Characters to be added, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Domeric Bolton is a Good Man, Dysfunctional Family, Everyone is Getting a Critical Eye, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, It depends where the story goes, Jon Snow is a Gift, Multi, Ned Stark's A+ Parenting, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Petyr is a Creep, Roose is odd but not a monster, Sansa has it rough, Stark Family Critical, The Starks Getting a Critical Eye Here, Theon Greyjoy is a Gift, Weird POVs, but it gets better slowly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:01:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22610683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pandean/pseuds/Pandean
Summary: Roose Bolton may not like his colleague, Ned Stark, but he respects the man, the honor-bound dolt that he is. That is until his son brings home a battered and broken Sansa Stark and pleads for his help.OrThe one in which Sansa Stark is hung out to dry when she reveals not only that the man who assaulted her, but the one whose child she aborted behind their backs, was none other than Petyr Baelish's. Lost and spiraling, she finds herself in the care of Domeric and Theon, two kindly Planned Parenthood workers and none other than Roose Bolton, her father's legal rival.OrIn which a lone wolf, two flayed men, a bastard, a squid on land, a vengeful viper, and two very protective mothers bring down the corrupt system that brought them all together in the first place.
Relationships: Additional Relationships to be added, Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Bran Stark & Sansa Stark, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Catelyn Tully Stark & Sansa Stark, Domeric Bolton/Sansa Stark, Domeric Bolton/Theon Greyjoy, Jon Snow & Sansa Stark, Ned Stark & Sansa Stark, Oberyn Martell & Sansa Stark, Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand, Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark, Rickon Stark & Sansa Stark, Robb Stark & Sansa Stark, Roose Bolton & Sansa Stark, Roose Bolton/"Fat" Walda Frey, Theon Greyjoy & Sansa Stark, Theon Greyjoy/Sansa Stark
Comments: 25
Kudos: 134





	1. An Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> So this might sound like it's weird or odd or making something out of a bad thing or whatever, like the story, but I've wanted to write a story kind of inspired by the Steubenville rape cases for quiet a while now, this one though with a much more happier ending and more empowering for the survivor. Sansa is such a strong character and I know she comes off as a damsel in the first chapter but she'll quickly show she's turned from porcelain, to ivory, to steel. There will be some Stark Critical here and maybe a little Ned/Cat bashing but I really try to stay away from actual bashing. If I mention something more critical it's definitely my own opinion re: the character.
> 
> Anyway, read on, I guess.

Roose always starts his evenings the same way. He changes from his work clothes to some more comfortable, casual wear, takes stock of the tea leaves and other herbal remedies in the cabinet, before painstakingly deciding on the concoction for tonight's tea. Then, with his wife's help, the mixture is ready to brew just as dinner is cooling on the table. By eight o'clock everyone is sitting down to eat, just as he likes it. By midnight, no one but him is usually awake.

This is not going to be one of those evenings. That's his first thought when his son crashes and bangs his way into the house at eight thirty nine in the evening. He can hear the cussing of his son's friend and the soft whimpers of something -- someone -- else and he pauses for a minute, takes a sip of too hot tea, and then places the cup back into the saucer to go see what his son is up to now.

Not that Domeric is up to very much. Or, well, if he is, he manages to stay on the right side of the law. But his squid of a friend has led him into some sticky scenarios in the past -- one of which involved a miniature pony in the living room which he would've reacted much more negatively too had Walda not immediately began to coo at it -- and Roose likes to know what's going on as soon as it happens. It's one of the first things his mentor taught him in law school. 

And oh does it come into play now because Domeric is half-carrying, half-dragging a limp redheaded girl by one shoulder while Theon grasps her by the other shoulder. Roose looks sadly back at the lovely roast Walda prepared. Of course this was the night of all nights when Domeric committed a murder. But no, the girl is shuddering and gasping like a fish out of water and there's something strangely familiar about her despite the fact that he can't see her face.

But he's supposed to be in the bloody Vale for God's sake finishing his training as an EMT.

"Walda," Domeric says, "Can you please get some warm blankets? Lots of them?"

His wife has also been peering around the corner as his son and friend and companion make their way into the living room. She nods sharply, her instincts as a nurse taking over, and dashes off to go grab the warmest blankets she can find.

"Father," Domeric says, looking up at him between shaggy curls of black hair. "Can you help me get her to the couch."

Roose has been considered by others as a cold man. This is correct. To do what he does, he has to be cold. This, however, does not mean he's cruel. So he helps his son and his son's friend seat the girl on the couch where she immediately curls up into a ball. He notices that her leggings are ripped and covered in blood. For the first time he also sees the girl's face too and realizes why she looks so familiar.

Sansa Stark. Daughter of his legal rival and resident bleeding heart Ned Stark. The last time he saw the girl was a Christmas ago at some fancy party all his colleagues had had to go to or face the wrath of Wyman Manderly. (It's not much of a wrath but it saves a very long and very boring lecture on company culture). Last he'd heard from Ned was that Sansa was finishing up at a college in King's Landing over a thousand miles away. But by the looks of the poor girl, ribs that stuck out beneath her ripped shirt, knees that were too knobby, flat hair, dull eyes, and of course the blood pooling on her pants, she had not been finishing whatever liberal arts degree her father mentioned.

He gives a questioning glance to his son who gives him a 'wait a minute' glance in return. The two of them often communicate that way, never speaking. Theon is holding both of Sansa's hands tightly as she clings onto them for what must be dear life by the blood trickling from the cuts in his palms.

Walda springs into action with the blankets. She's had the good sense to bring all the other nursing supplies she keeps at the house in stock too and makes a sour face when she notices the blood on Sansa's pants. She whispers to the girl, who immediately cringes away before letting Walda's soothing voice wash over her, and Sansa gives a small nod. 

Walda produces a phone from her pocket and throws it to Theon. "Do something useful and get Ellaria and Oberyn here, now."

Theon dashes off to the other room, knowing that Walda might look sweet and harmless, round pudgy thing she is, but she is absolutely deadly when you cross her and he does not want to cross her. She's taken the words of House Bolton to heart, it seems.

"Roose, Domeric," she demands, "I need you two to leave so I can conduct an examination. Please wait outside for Ellaria and Oberyn. They should be here any minute, I'm calling with both emergency numbers. Direct Oberyn to the sitting room with Theon and yourselves and tell Ellaria to come find me in the living room."

Both men nod, though Domeric seems hesitant to leave Sansa's side. "I'll be okay, Dom," she whispers. It's a fragile thing. "Really."

His son bends down until the two are at eye level and he says, "I'll be right in the room next door. You're safe, okay? You're safe, now."

He stands and follows Roose out to the sitting room where Theon has already finished his call.

"Domeric, Theon," Roose starts. "Do you want to explain what the hell is going on?"

"The Starks are bastards, that's what!" Theon nearly shouts and Domeric has to steady him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Turns out Sansa Stark wasn't in school at all. Hasn't been in university in over a year, actually. She went to do a study abroad in the Vale with her Uncle Petyr."

"And?" Roose says, knowing there must be more.

"He raped her. Repeatedly. So did some other dick. Some guy named Harry. From what I can piece together she told her parents and they backed Baelish because he was always a friend of her mother's," Domeric shudders as if the very thought repulses him. It does to Roose. "And then he punished her, though she won't say how. She ran away and was living on the streets for months until she stumbled into the Planned Parenthood I was volunteering at. She was maybe five months along and we told her we couldn't do much for her other than give maternal support due to the restrictions in the Vale but I was worried and she'd left a phone number for a contact. It came to be some motel's and by the time I got down there she'd practically skewered herself with a wire coathanger and downed two entire bottles of Xanax. I'm actually not sure how she's still alive."

"And you treated her with your level of training?" Roose raises an eyebrow again at that.

"Of course not, I did what I could and took her to a goddamn hospital. Stomach pumped, surgery, she got it all. But I," Domeric stops his pacing and rubs the skin on the back of his neck, he does it whenever he's overcome with emotion, Roose notices. It's a trait he inherited from his mother and Roose's late wife. "I had to check up on her and found out she'd gone AMA and left the hospital. Theon and I searched for like, three hours, in the snow with Mychel and Mya and until I finally found her lying in a snow-covered tube slide in a park. She said she couldn't go back, that Petyr would find her and hurt her for killing his baby." Domeric gives a helpless shrug. "What was I supposed to do?"

"And the Starks?" Roose presses.

"Either don't know, don't care, or both. She mentioned trying to talk to her mother and being called a harlot. Apparently Baelish and her Aunt Lysa had spun some very different stories. You know Ned...he's honorable to the point of stupidity and also more Catholic than a closeted altar boy. If something happened it's her fault and now that she's committed the _ultimate crime_ ," his son has the grace to put those words in air quotes. "He's done with her. As with the rest of the brood? Not sure. But the others, aside from Jon and Robb, are all minors who can't do much and she begged me not to tell Robb. Jon's coming down from the Wall as soon as he can get clearance."

"I see," Roose says, the gears in his head turning. He never liked Ned Stark. Respected him, sure. He was a good enough lawyer and would take cases out of the kindness of his heart and fight to make sure the person he defended had every last honor. But the man was also, sadly, a hypocrite when it came to any slip up or mistake and looked down upon Roose's clientele. Whereas Ned defended honorable people wronged by the system, Roose defended those who surely were scum. According to Ned, anyway. He didn't notice or care that the man he snubbed his nose at for the murder of his wife had stopped her from drowning her children or that the kid caught inappropriately touching his sister was himself being assaulted by their father every night. The world was black and white to him.

While more painful, Roose preferred a world of grey and red. 

There was frantic knocking at the door as Theon rushed to let Ellaria and Oberyn in. Both had thrown together hap hazardous bags of anything they thought the young girl might need -- Theon must've more or less filled them in -- and Ellaria went with Walda while Oberyn stormed into the sitting room with the other men, fury plain on his face.

Oberyn was too passionate to be a good lawyer. He'd murder someone himself one of these days if he wasn't careful. Roose wasn't sure that he already hadn't. Crimes of passion and good connections tended to cross wires. But he was one of the best gynecologists he knew and his wife, Ellaria, was both certified in the same area of study as well as a certified psychologist, specializing in sexual assault survivors and PTSD.

The girl may not know it right then, but she had a very good team forming up behind her.

Walda came back into the sitting room after a few moments of quiet where everyone seethed in their own emotions. "She's going to be okay. The bleeding is normal enough considering the circumstances but her escaping from the hospital and going on the run probably didn't help things. She won't need surgery in any case. She told me about...what happened in the hospital as well, surgery wise. And before. She's exhausted. Ellaria gave her half of an ambien and she's out cold. But we need to decide what we're going to do because this isn't going to stay silent for long and from the details I managed to get from her it's going to get ugly fast. Petyr Baelish is highly respected in his community and so is Harrold Hardyng. The later is basically the Vale's golden darling. "

"I promised I'd protect her," Domeric said. "I promised I'd help her. I'm not going back on that."

"I'm with Dom," Theon said. "Sansa deserves it."

"Does it even need to come to a vote?" Oberyn sighed, looking over at the wine display that Roose had painstakingly put together. 

He took a breath in through his nose and let it out. He never expected he would need to defend the daughter of his biggest rival from her own family. Never expected that something of this nature would even happen to one of Ned Stark's children. And yet, the girl was here. 

Bethany had been broken too, when they'd first met in college. Walda, though always fierce, had needed him in her corner at points as well due to her rat of a father. 

Roose truly did not try to collect and fix broken people, though they seemed to gravitate around him. The squid on probation for tossing his uncle overboard, the vipers silently crying for their sister whom was lost and never found years ago, the large woman with the largest (non-medically speaking) heart, his own son who at a tender age was nearly killed by the bastard whom Roose himself put a bullet in.

And so, the trial of the ages and more importantly, the restoration of Sansa Stark began.


	2. The Full and True Story of Sansa Stark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa recovers enough to tell her new band of protectors what happened to her. Note, trigger warning for talks of rape, sexual assault, violence, drugs, and pedophilia.

Sansa Stark was in a daze for a week. She lay in the bed in the master bedroom (Mr. Bolton had allowed it, saying she deserved the comfort more, and Mrs. Bolton has practically shoved her into the room) while Mrs. Bolton lay on one of the fluffy couches downstairs. Mr. Bolton lay on the floor next to her on what looked like the world's most uncomfortable air mattress.

She ate when food was presented to her and drank if someone gave her a sealed water bottle -- she refused to touch any type of beverage that wasn't completely sealed before she had it. She would go to the bathroom when she needed and tried to not look at the blood that filled her sanitary pad like a period and the dark bruising on her vagina. Even going to the bathroom made her gasp in pain and Sansa wondered if she's even not feel this pain. Not just the physical pain, but the mental pain too. So, she just sat in bed, staring off at nothing. 

How could this have all happened to her? She thought to herself. Had she been such a bad person that God decided to punish her? Sansa knew that wasn't how the Old Gods worked but her mother -- oh, her mother, thinking about her stung -- had Ned denounce the 'pagan religion' before they married. Though he sometimes told them all in secret about weirwoods and whispers. But other people had other beliefs, particularly her mother, and she was raised to believe that God would only give what you deserved, pain was to teach a lesson, they were all sinners in his eyes.

Maybe she did do some cruel things as a child. She'd fought with Arya a lot. She'd been spoiled and naive. But hadn't she grown out of that? She was so close with her sister now and knew the truth of the world. Or at least, she thought she had before the Eyrie.

The Eyrie. It seemed like such a great place to finish her masters. The campus in the old castle was beautiful and the Vale's land itself was lovely. Plus, she had an aunt who'd was headmistress there (though she died falling down the stairs) and now her husband, her mother's best friend, presided as headmaster. What was there to worry about other than falling off a cliff?

She should've listened to Arya. She was a Stark and wolves were meant to stay in the North.

__

Sometimes the others would come in and sit with her for a while. Jon and Robb came to her very soon after finding out where she was and the support from her two brothers made her stronger. They reported that Arya was trying to sneak out to visit too but Catelyn had forbidden her from even talking to Sansa. Her claws were already hooked in deep into Ned, Bran, and Rickon. She knew what they thought of her.

When Theon came into the room her anxiety would pick up just a little until she learned of his transformation from a lout-ish berk to a semi-decent person.

She refused to talk to Ellaria, not willing to go through whatever therapy she had in mind. It would no doubt tell her it wasn't her fault but it _was_ her fault. That's how it worked. She was just too tempting. 

The oddest character to sit with her was Roose Bolton. He would always make a few remarks on how she looked healthier and to take her time healing. It baffled Sansa because this man beside her was her father's worst enemy. Ned would go on rants for hours about the sleazy scumbag lawyer that she now sat beside. A sleazy scumbag lawyer had done exactly what her honorable father did not.

There was one more person who visited her who she knew the least of. Maybe that's why it was easier to spill her story to Domeric until the words tumbled out of her like a waterfall. 

"I was so excited when I first got there. The Eyrie's such a good school. Lysa was a decent headmistress but then..."

"She died."

Sansa nodded, "She died. And her husband Petyr became the next headmaster and it felt...weird. He stared at me sometimes, I felt like a rabbit being sized up for stew, and his eyes just lingered on my body, I felt disgusting." She pulled the blankets around her, like they were a makeshift shield, though she already wore a pair of fresh cotton pajamas. "I was really worried when he called me into his office because I didn't want to disappoint one of my mother's great friends. But he was nice and polite and asked if I was able to help Harrold Hardying with an upcoming charity project for battered women and of course I agreed. Things...changed then."

"Harry and I began to date. At first it was gentle and sweet and he didn't push. But the longer we dated the more he wanted and the less I was willing to give." She buried her head in her hands. "I don't know who gave him the video but I was out with friends and got super wasted and said a bunch of sexual things and Harry concluded that was enough. If I was willing to be sexual outside, I'd have to be with him too." She took a deep, trembling breath. "And then he...he...raped me."

Domeric squeezed his hands into fists, looking like he'd well and truly kill the man that did this to her.

"I didn't say anything," Sansa blushed. "I was too ashamed. Good girls don't get raped." She tried to fight the image coming from her head. Harry, the golden boy, holding her down, forcing her legs apart, his cock already hard and --

"Hey," Domeric said softly, "stay with me, Sansa. You're not there. You're here. Stay here."

She had to catch her breath as the sobs threatened to come out again but finally continued speaking. "My mom told me it was my fault because college had turned me into a harlot. Girls only go to college to get husbands, not to study virology, apparently. She said I needed to apologize to him for not satisfying his needs. That was another thing growing up. A woman may not like the man she's bound with -- boyfriend or husband -- but she still needed to make sure their physical needs were met even if it hurt her."

"And Ned?" Domeric leaned forward. 

"He doesn't really pay attention to the family, just the job. He's always scanning files for clients and working on cases." She shrugged. "He's never been a good child person."

"So, I went to Petyr thinking he would help and well...you know how that turned out. I had to have counseling sessions with him or risk being expelled for bad behavior. It started somewhat instantly but it quickly turned into me sitting in his lap, sucking his dick, I was forced over his office table as he took me both ways and promised he'd ruin my life if I ever screamed or told anyone."

__

Domeric Bolton was always told he had strong guts. He could handle the goriest cases and not blink an eye as he helped the surviving wounded get to where they needed to go. But Sansa's story made his stomach churn a way dead, mangled bodies couldn't and the more he sat through listening the more he had to hide the infamous Bolton rage. He would go find these people. He'd kill them. His father knew how to dispense with bodies if the stories of Ramsay's fate was true.

He hated to just sit there and listen and stay silent other than the occasional comment or question but he knew from Ellaria she wasn't ready for that type of support yet. So he sat by her side as she spilled her story and diligently listened.

"I found out I was pregnant soon after," she said, turning her head so a red curtain was between him and her. "I called my family, I don't know why. My mother called me a slut and a whore when I told her about what happened. When I mentioned Petyr's name she called me a liar. She said that God was punishing me for my harlot ways by giving me a baby and if I aborted it I would never be allowed home again. I don't think my father knew exactly what was going on, only that his daughter claimed his wife's best friend and the Eyrie's golden boy raped her multiple times and she was pregnant. He told me to quit the lie already and come home so I could get psychiatric treatment but instead I asked for his help filing a case against the two men. He wouldn't because there wasn't enough evidence and he didn't want to send 'good men' to prison."

Domeric had heard a lot of his father's none-too-kind rants about Eddard Stark for most of his life and had always pegged him to be a bit slow and detached when it came to anything that wasn't law but this was horrifying on a new level.

"Then I went to planned parenthood and the rest, as they say, is history." She sighed. "I was hoping sleeping out there in the cold, bleeding, would kill me overnight. But I'm alive." She stood and for the first time opened the doors to the balcony connected to the master bedroom. She was still incredibly thin and pale in the sunlight, still bruised, but not as much as before. She had color in her cheeks at least, and she wasn't so sharp looking anymore, and her bruises were yellowing. "Thank you for listening," she said to him. "It helped getting it out there to a person I don't know at all."

"We're all here for you, you know," Domeric said. "We won't do anything you don't want us to. If you want to leave, you can leave when Oberyn declares you healthy enough, but if you want to stay for a while you'll always be encouraged to stay here. When shit like that happens we need people to be around us. At least, that's what I think. It's why I became an EMT. You can't do as much but you can be there."

"Thank you, Domeric," she said again. "If it's possible, could you tell Walda to set an extra plate at dinner tonight? Theon, Jon, and Robb aren't around and Oberyn and Ellaria have just gone home so I figured the evening would be quieter and that would be better for me to...get back into things, I guess. Think about what to do. If there's anything I can do."

"You could always press charges. Despite what they said we do have plenty of evidence."

She smiled sadly. "And who would be my lawyer? Who would go again Ned Stark? What type of girl has to go against her own father in court?"

"Well, I can think of one." Said a voice from the doorway.

"Stalk much, dad?" Domeric asked.

Roose rolled his eyes. "No, I came up here to say that Walda ordered Chinese and it's here and for the love of the old gods keep your hands away from the Moo Goo Thai Pan or I will literally murder you, Walda already ordered your favorite." he turned to Sansa. "We had to guess yours. Is Chicken Lo Mein fine?"

Sansa nodded. "How much did you hear before stepping in?" She had an odd look on her face.

"Enough to recognize your parental figures should've been castrated at birth," Roose said sharply. "And that if you press charges Ned will defend the dead men who did that to you." A tiny smile appeared on Roose's face and made him look more terrifying than normal. "And well, I'll never turn down an offer for Ned Stark to eat his own boot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know your thoughts in the comments and leave a kudos if you want!

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Gimme Gimme. Hope this came off okay.


End file.
